


"Somethin' Special"

by TechnoXenoHolic



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Blue Bacchus is an MTO, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Self-Indulgent, kin memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 18:59:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12659433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnoXenoHolic/pseuds/TechnoXenoHolic
Summary: Blue Bacchus was apparently meant to die, but here he was instead.





	"Somethin' Special"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [andstarswillscream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andstarswillscream/gifts).



> [jazz hands]  
> back at it again with the kinfeels

Space travel was… really boring. Most of the time there was nothing to fill his thoughts, nothing to smother the ache in his head, nothing to chase away the nasty thoughts that had been plaguing Blue Bacchus since Black Shadow told him…

Well.

Bacchus tried to focus on learning things, the things he was missing. He quizzed the medics relentlessly when they came into his room to fix him. About the war, about why Black Shadow had made such… _unpleasant_ (pitying?) expressions when Blue Bacchus couldn’t tell him anything from before the fight because… he really didn’t know.

Black Shadow asked, and Blue Bacchus just shrugged helplessly.

There _wasn’t_ anything. Just having a terrible gun shoved in his hand and being pushed onto the field, lining up rank and file, and all Pits breaking loose before they even got their briefing. _Ambush,_ his battle coding whispered.

Not that his coding was made up of much else.

It made sense, though, and that was the worst part. Not built to fight after all, not really. Cannon fodder. Made to die.

But there was a lot that _didn’t_ make sense, so when the medics stopped giving him good answers (or maybe Blue had just run out of good questions) he started asking Black Shadow. Never too many questions at a time—a couple of the medics had gotten annoyed with him, said he was pestering. And he _liked_ Black Shadow. Didn’t want to pester and annoy _him._

Which made getting the information he wanted a slow process, but maybe that was okay. It was a long trip. (It had taken most of Blue Bacchus’ life already!)

A while after Black Shadow _finally_ let the medics attend to him, too—Bacchus could hear them griping about him, how stubborn he was, how he still wasn’t _invincible_ even _with_ his upgrades—they made planetfall.

Black Shadow told him what the planet was called, probably, but Blue Bacchus didn’t register it in his excitement. There was an open sky. His rotors itched and buzzed against their mount. He wanted to get up there. “How do I get up there?”

Shadow’s wings twitched. “You don’t know?”

Blue shrugged at him. “I don’t know slag.”

Black Shadow squinted.

Figuring out how to transform was… something of an ordeal. Bacchus managed to buzz his rotors (no actual _spinning,_ just a sort of… loose vibration) and fragging _hover_ in his _root mode_ before he managed to change form. The utterly incredulous look he got out of Black Shadow made him laugh so hard he fell out of the air and onto his aft in the dirt.

Worth it.

Apparently, that wasn’t a normal ability. Blue Bacchus didn’t have thrusters in his pedes (Shadow checked). He was a _helicopter,_ as they figured out when he managed to actually transform a moment later.

Black Shadow muttered something under his breath. It sounded a little like _‘a liar’._

 _Outlier?_ his processor supplied, on a hunch. But what did that _mean?_

“What?”

“Dunno. I’m not sure.”

And then Black Shadow transformed and took off, into the air, calling for Bacchus to _come on, already._

Once Blue Bacchus figured out how it worked (and it was easy, actually—it came so _naturally),_ flying felt the same way fighting did. Like a drug. Like what he was _really_ meant to do. Black Shadow streaked smoothly past him—so much faster but in such a loose curve—and Blue laughed, utterly joyous.

 _Screw_ dying. He wanted to hang onto this.


End file.
